Astrophil and Stella: 69th Sonnet

by Philip Sidney

Oh joy, too high for my Love still to showe,
Oh blisse, fit for a nobler seat than mee
Envie put out thine eyes, least thou doe see
What Oceans of delight in me doth flowe.
My friend that oft saw’st through all maskes, my woe,
Come, come, and let me poure myself on thee:
Gone is the winter of my miserie.
My spring appeares, ô see what heere doth growe,
For Stella hath with wordes (where faith doth shine)
Of her high hart given me the Monarchie
I, I, ô I may say that she is mine.
And though she give but thus condicionally,
This Realme of blisse, while vertues course I take,
No Kings be Crownd, but they some covenant make.

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